Bear the Burden of Responsibility
by Onee-san
Summary: ""May?" his voice cracked on the single word. May slowly stepped into the room, and as she approached, Peter's lips formed a thin, tight line. His chin quivered slightly, and she saw tears starting to form in his eyes." Sort of the beginnings of a resolution to Infinity War.
1. Time Keeps on Slipping

**Title:** _Bear the Burden of Responsibility_

 **Rating:** K+ (for now, rating may go up with later chapters)

 **Summary:** _"May?" his voice cracked on the single word. May slowly stepped into the room, and as she approached, Peter's lips formed a thin, tight line. His chin quivered slightly, and she saw tears starting to form in his eyes._ Sort of the beginnings of a resolution to _Infinity War._

 ** _A/N:_** So I felt like I should put a little trigger warning on this (see below). It's not anything I personally feel is too descriptive, but better safe than sorry. Mostly this is because time travel is fun, my own theory for everything is that they are somehow going to use the time stone for all of this, and Peter knowing he was dying/dissolving (possibly due to his spidey-sense) and having it play a prominent role is moving things along. Is that likely? No, probably not, but it still is fun to play with. This story does not take into account anything in the End Game Trailer (it was written before that trailer came out) and I am not sure if it will use it as it continues. It's still growing and maturing, so I'm just gonna see where this one takes us.

Chapter Title is from _Fly Like an Eagle_ by Steve Miller Band.

 *****TRIGGER WARNING*****

There is a mild description of the signs of/dealing with a panic attack.

* * *

May sighed as she kicked the door shut behind her, wrestling with her umbrella and overlarge purse. It was a long shift, and she was feeling it down to her bones. _Sometimes, I feel like I'm 80 instead of 50_ , she thought to herself with a light chuckle as she shook the rain off her umbrella before setting it in its stand. She dropped her bag on the couch as she walked by, then shrugged her coat off and leaned it over the backrest. The woman sighed again as she looked down at her stained scrubs. She was in such a rush to leave that she didn't even bother changing her clothes. Seeing the small dots of red on her shirt by her hip made her regret this decision somewhat. She rubbed at her eyes, seeing the blood-covered face of a little girl with curly brown hair staring at her with fear in her doe eyes. May repressed a shudder as she made her way back to the kitchen. She filled the kettle with tap water and placed it on the stove, shaking her body to get over the feeling of claustrophobia. This was their home for only a few months now, and she was still getting used to the downgrade in her kitchen. She tried to remind herself that she didn't need a huge kitchen, she didn't ever cook much anyway. That was always Ben's area of expertise. She smiled a little as she pulled a tea tin from the cupboard, thinking fondly of him shooing her away from his dishes. _"I love you, May, but you are not coming near my sauce. Do you want to poison me and Pete? Go on, woman!"_

She started pulling a mug out of a different cabinet when a horrible scream startled her, causing the mug to fall from her fingers and onto the floor. May rushed out of the kitchen and back towards Peter's bedroom, throwing open the door and switching on the light. Peter was staring at his hands, flexing them slightly, eyes wide but unaware. "Peter?" she asked gently. Peter spun his head so fast, May was worried he would hurt himself. He stared at her with a startled, frightened look, oddly reminiscent of the little girl whose life she saved earlier.

"May?" his voice cracked on the single word. May slowly stepped into the room, and as she approached, Peter's lips formed a thin, tight line. His chin quivered slightly, and she saw tears starting to form in his eyes.

"Oh, honey," she said, forgoing her slow approach and rushing to his side. She sat at the edge of his bed next to him and smoothed his sweat drenched curls away from his forehead. His skin was clammy yet hot to touch. "Peter, you're burning up. Are you sick?" she spoke softly, looking into his eyes for other signs of illness. She placed her hands on his shoulders, looking over his face. The jersey fabric of his t-shirt clung to his skin. "God, babe, you sweat through your clothes. Good thing you're on break right now, I wouldn't let you go to school in this state."

"…Break?" Peter's whispered.

"Yes honey, school just let out for winter break a couple of days ago. On Friday, remember? We don't have to worry about you missing school, so at least there's that. I don't want you out patrolling tomorrow. New York can do without Spider-Man while you're getting well," she said frowning, rubbing her thumb against his collarbone. Suddenly, her nephew lurched forward with a sob, thrusting his face to her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her tightly. "Whoa, whoa sweetie it's okay. You're alright," she soothed, rubbing his back. Peter shook his head minutely, crying against her. "Did you have a bad dream, sweetheart?" He murmured something unintelligible against her, and the only words she could discern was 'saw Ben.' Her heart ached as she wondered about his nightmare. He must have been dreaming about the night Ben was shot. "Peter, Peter honey it was just a dream," she said. "I miss him too." Peter shook his head more vigorously now, clutching her even more tightly to him. The air left her lungs in a sudden whoosh and she coughed a little, struggling for breath. "Too tight, Peter, calm down," the second she said the words his grip relaxed, but his crying seemed to increase. "Peter," she pulled away from him, gripping his shoulders again. Tears were flowing down his face and his mouth was pressed closed. Trauma was written all over his features, alarming May. The woman nodded once, firmly, plan in place.

"Alright. I've got some water boiling. You are going to the bathroom to clean yourself up while I go to the kitchen to make us some tea. Then you and I will sit in the living room together and you can talk to me about this, okay?" she said, gripping his shoulders a little tighter to ensure her words sunk in. Instead of calming him, Peter shook his head rapidly, gripping May's forearms. "Or I can stay in here with you, but Peter you'll be more comfortable after a shower and some clean clothes," she said firmly. Peter drew in a shuddering breath and nodded slightly, but when May started to get up to take care of the tea, Peter wouldn't let go of her arms.

"I'm here, sweetie. I'm here, I'm just going to be in the next room, okay?" Peter slowly released her and watched her leave the room. She left the door open, not wanting eyes and ears off her boy if she could help it. After she returned to the kitchen, she pulled down a separate tea canister. She preferred chamomile, but Peter preferred peppermint. She bent down and picked up the mug she dropped earlier, which miraculously did not break. After setting the now dirty dish in the sink, she pulled down two new mugs, letting out a relieved breath when she heard the shower kick on. The water hadn't boiled yet, so she went to her room and quickly changed out of her dirty scrubs and into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. She pulled her long, dark hair into a loose bun and headed back into the kitchen when she heard the kettle whistle. As she passed the bathroom, she heard the shower shut off.

After a few minutes of putting together the tea (extra honey for Peter because he liked it sweet), Peter came to the kitchen to find her, clad in clean, dry pajamas with slightly damp hair. He twisted the bottom of his t-shirt nervously, rocking back and forth.

"Tea's ready. Do you want to go back to your room?" Peter shook his head. May's eyebrows furrowed. "Alright. Do you want to sit on the couch?" Peter looked back towards the living room, then nodded once. May grabbed the tea and gestured for him to follow her. She settled on the couch and soon Peter did the same, sitting very close to May. He picked up his tea and cradled it in his hands. May waited for Peter to speak, but after several long minutes where neither of them moved, she decided to break the silence. "Do you want to tell me about your dream?" she asked, gently.

Peter shook his head a little before clearing his throat. "I—I don't' think it was a dream."

"Was it when Ben…" even after all this time, May still had trouble saying the words. Peter shook his head again.

"No, no May I saw Ben. I was with him. I'm pretty sure that I died," he said in a rush. May's eyebrows shot straight into her hairline.

"What?"

"No, I know it sounds crazy but I'm sure it wasn't a dream. I'm positive," Peter said, getting agitated. His hands shook enough that the tea started sloshing out of the mug before he decided to set it down.

"Peter, you're very much alive and well," May said slowly. Peter gripped his hair. May gently pried his fingers away from his scalp.

"May I know! I know that but… but I'm sure that I did die. I—I felt myself dissolve, and I was with Ben and Mom and Dad, and there was this crazy skeleton lady—" Peter was breathing rapidly, eyes flicking everywhere at once.

"Okay, okay," she said calmly. "Breathe with me okay?" she put his hand over her sternum just under her clavicle and placed her other hand over his heart. "Feel my breath. In and out," she said, taking slow, deep breaths. Peter trembled and couldn't seem to hear her. "I want you to look at your mug. Do you see it?" Peter nodded. "Describe it to me. What does it look like?"

"May, this s-s-st-stupid," he choked out, but didn't move away. She kept her grip firm on his hand.

"Describe the mug. Look at it and describe it to me. Try to match my breaths," she said calmly, still breathing slowly and deeply. Peter looked at the object in question, and slowly started describing it in halting words. The color, _"it's brown,"_ size, _"it's one of my bigger mugs,"_ shape, _"it looks like Chewbacca,"_ slowly his breaths started to match hers and his trembling ceased as he described the mug in more detail, prompted by May's questions. Tears started streaming down his face again, but he was no longer hyperventilating. It appeared May managed to head off his panic attack in good time, tonight.

"Are you calm?" she asked gently. Peter nodded, looking away from the mug and back at her. She let go of his hand and he set it in his lap, lip still quivering. "Alright. Now tell me what happened? Because Peter, I know you go through a lot of weird things as Spider-Man, but I'm pretty sure we'd both know if you d-died," she said, stumbling over the last word.

"I don't think you did," he whispered, shivering a little. She blinked at him but held her tongue. "I mean, I don't know if anyone told you. We were… we were off planet. We were somewhere in space, fighting this giant purple alien… I don't know if Mr. Stark ever got home," he said quietly. More and more this sounded like a bizarre nightmare. Peter winced a little. "Okay, I know this sounds crazy, but it wasn't a dream," he moaned. Everything in his body was begging her to believe him.

"Start from the beginning," she asked.

Peter gripped his knees. "I was on the field trip to MoMA, and there was this space ship in Manhattan, so I got off the bus to see if I could help. Mr. Stark was there, and we had to save this wizard? But we weren't able to beat the aliens, and they caught the wizard and took him on the space ship." Peter paused, furrowing his eyebrows, as if he couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"Go on," May prompted.

"Right. Right, so then we got on the space ship and Mr. Stark gave me a like… Iron-Man-Spider-Man suit? An Iron-Spider suit? I don't know. It was a really good suit. Once we got on the space ship, we saved the wizard by recreating that scene from Aliens? You know where Ripley shoots the Xenomorph queen out of the airlock at the end before they all go into hypersleep? It was showing at the second-run theater?"

May knew what scene Peter was talking about, but she hadn't thought he'd seen that movie yet. She planned on taking him to see it in the theater when it came out, knowing how much he liked the first one. She frowned as she thought on his statement. They hadn't been to the movies together in months. It seemed like between her work schedule and his school and after school activities, they just didn't have the time. She nodded for Peter to continue.

"So, yeah, so we got rid of the alien bad guy, and saved the wizard, who said his name was Strange. Doctor Strange? I don't know. Everyone knows Mr. Stark, and I told the guy my name, but he wanted to use his superhero name, I guess. Then some other aliens and a guy from Missouri showed up and we got in this huge fight, then we were on some ruined planet, and we were there for a really long time. Then we fought this giant purple guy and almost won but ended up losing because he killed Starlord's girlfriend—Starlord was the guy from Missouri—and then next thing I know everyone is dissolving and I felt really weird, and my spidey-sense was going nuts, and I felt myself disintegrating from the inside…. Then... then this _skeleton_ lady shows up, and she was scary, May, so scary!" Peter babbled on about the skeleton lady for a while. Apparently, she left quite an impression on her nephew. "Then I managed to run away from her and I got lost, but Ben found me somehow, and took me to Mom and Dad, and we all just… just were together for a while," he was crying again, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

May's heart broke for her child. Peter suffered so much loss at such a young age and was under tremendous stress now. Having such fantastical nightmares was a perfectly normal way for his subconscious to deal with it. "Then Doctor Strange found me, and said that Mr. Stark had a choice, and depending on how he chose it would affect everything, and he said he was sorry that I would have to re-remember when no one… no one else…." Peter trailed off, staring at his mug again. "He said I would have to… have to find him, and somehow convince Mr. Stark… that…."

May rubbed Peter's back soothingly, waiting for him to finish.

"I sound like a crazy person," he said, new tears in his eyes.

She exhaled slowly, sighing in relief that he saw the nightmare for what it was. "No, Peter. We all have weird dreams that can feel so real. Your brain is trying to process all the stress you've been through—"

"It wasn't a dream, May," he said, panicked. May sighed. "Please, May, you have to believe me, it wasn't a dream!"

"Peter, you said you were on a space ship where you save a wizard and met a group of aliens with a man named Starlord from Missouri," May said in as even a tone as she could manage.

"I know! I know but… the tree is still up! Why is the tree still up?" May turned to their tiny Christmas tree sitting on the end table, glowing merrily. "And look outside!" he exclaimed, standing up and moving to the window. She could see in the streetlamps the raindrops had turned to snowflakes.

"Yes?"

"It's snowing!"

"So?"

"It's April!"

"No, Peter it's December." Peter growled and gripped his hair again. May stood up and walked to him, grabbing his hands.

"I'm not crazy, May!"

"I didn't say you were, sweetie. I just think you need to take a few deep breaths and maybe try to get some sleep."

"You got me the Indiana Jones box set for Christmas," he declared, triumphantly. "And Nana Rose got you and me matching ugly sweaters."

May scowled. "Did you peek at the presents, young man?"

"What? No, of course not. I know because it already happened for me!" she shook her head at him, opening her mouth to scold him. "May, you just said school just let out? On Friday? What day is today?"

May sighed and looked at her watch. "It's technically very early Monday morning."

"Okay… okay I remember that weekend. You had a really rough shift tonight. You saved a little girl who was in a car crash and you found out she was the only surviving member of her family and she would be going to live with her godparents."

May frowned, looking at Peter. "What? How did you…" there was no way Peter could know what she had done unless he was there. "Were you out patrolling around the hospital?" she asked with a frown. It was several hours ago, and within the realm of possibility that Peter was out late, taking advantage of May's absence.

"I know because you told me! I know because tomorrow I'll get home from patrol, and there'll be a burnt lasagna, and you'll tell me about it during dinner before we'll watch Elf!" Now May pressed her hand to her chest. Peter had no way of knowing she just bought that DVD on a whim from the 24-hour mart by the subway station. Except when she turns to her bag lying innocuously on the couch, she sees the case has slid out, showing the title and Will Ferrell's grinning face

They stare at each other; the only sound is the rushing of traffic in the streets below and Peter's less panicked but still heavy breathing. Finally after she can no longer take the tension, she speaks.

"Peter, I don't know what's happening," she began, "and everything you're saying sounds very… unreal." Peter opened his mouth to argue but closed it again when she held a hand up. "But I don't want to discount what you're saying. Yes, in my head I can come up with all sorts of reasons you would dream this up and believe it to be real, but we do live in a world where aliens show up from the sky, and drones attack six-year-old boys wearing Iron Man masks," she said with a tight smile. "So let's compromise, okay?"

Peter's frown deepened. "How?" he asked, quietly.

"You and I are going to sleep on it. We can sit up and fall asleep to a movie, or I can sit with you in your room until you fall asleep. Hell, if you want you can fall asleep in my bed with me," she chuckled at the embarrassed blush adorning his features. "Then tomorrow morning you can tell me about this again when I know for sure you hadn't just dreamed it up. Deal?"

Peter glanced back to his bedroom, then rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Deal, sweetie?"

Peter sighed and dropped his hand. "I'm afraid to fall asleep," he said, and his voice sounded so frightened that May's heart broke all over again. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back.

"Well, why do you think I'm going to be with you until you fall asleep? Because I think your bunk bed is so comfortable?"

Peter let out a watery chuckle and smiled the way he did when he was trying so hard not to cry. "What if I don't wake up?" May wrapped her arms tightly around her nephew.

"Peter Benjamin Parker," she whispered sternly in his ear, "don't you talk like that. You'll wake up, and I'll make us French toast and coffee and we'll talk this out. Do you understand me?" He nodded into her shoulder.

They settled on the couch and threw on old reruns of Star Trek, and after a much shorter time than she expected, Peter was lying on his side with his head in her lap, sleeping soundly. She idly combed his curls with her fingers before getting up to put a blanket over him and settling in the armchair to sleep. They had a lot to go over in the morning.

* * *

 _A/N: Me, I personally like the theory that Peter Parker actually knew what was happening to him at the end of Infinity War because of his Spidey Sense. The first time I heard that theory I was like, "Oh please, can that be a canon thing?" Then later I heard the bit about how it was improvised and I'm guessing the directors and writers will not go that way... but still. Wouldn't it be cool? That's what started this. Also, in regards to May and her pet names; in the comics I've noticed them a lot, and that is a personal Mom behavior from me (I'm sure when my child is older it'll drive him crazy) that I passed on to May. This is considered a WIP for now, I'm working on a couple more chapters (one mostly written and unedited, another only kind of sitting in my brain) and it will most likely just cover the beginnings of a Resolution for Infinity War. I don't have much of a plot fleshed out for an actual solution to what happened in Infinity War, so most likely this story won't go that far, but we'll see how inspiration strikes. Thanks for reading, and please review!_

 _Oh, did anyone see who I happened to slip in there? It's mad-obvious to me, but maybe not. :) This may tie into a different cross-over idea one day..._


	2. No One Can Find the Rewind Button Now

**_A/N:_** _Hello, welcome back. Here is the next chapter for Bear the Burden of Responsibility. This time we are exploring Tony's POV. Which is hard. He's got a level of genius and snark and I just don't have that. I also want to make it clear that because none of this story (so far) is from Peter's perspective, we are definitely missing pieces. There are things that Peter will say in this chapter and upcoming chapter(s) that make no sense. This is on purpose, I promise, and I'm working to resolve it for people who don't LIKE that (because loose ends, random incomplete thoughts, ewwwwwwww) but it's possible that it won't happen. Depends on if I decide to write a chapter from Peter's view, and if I do how much of the other timeline he will address (via flashbacks, dialogue, etc.). Enjoy!_

 _Chapter title is from 2 AM (Breathe) by Anna Nalick._

* * *

Tony sighed, straightening his jacket a little. Pepper chuckled beside him. Together they stood in front of a simple white door in a modest apartment complex in Forest Hills, New York. Queens was not a place Tony liked to visit, but it had its perks, one of them being the kid.

Not that he'd let Underoos know that. The kid would never let him live it down.

Tony Stark, thinking of Peter Parker as a perk?

Well, that sounded very sappy or very nasty, depending on who you talked to.

Either way, it wasn't a good look on Tony, so he decided not to voice the thought. Ever.

"So, are we just going to stare at Peter's door, or is one of us going to knock?" Pepper asked. Her expression was all seriousness, but if you knew where to look (and Tony most definitely did) you could see a twinkle in her eye that only shone when she was laughing silently at his expense.

Tony had become very familiar with that look over the years. It was one of his favorites.

"Shh, just calm down. I'll get it. Why are we here again?" he asked checking his phone before replacing it in his pocket. Pepper just raised an eyebrow at him.

"I believe you wanted to invite Mr. Parker to join us at the compound for dinner on Christmas?" she reminded him, gently.

The man frowned, thinking about the night before. Tony had shot up in the middle of the night, clawing at the edges of a nightmare that was fading so fast, all he could remember was dust. Dust and desperation.

" _I don't want to go, sir please—"_

Tony shook himself. The dream did a number on him. After he settled back in for sleep, he couldn't stop worrying over the kid. He wondered about Peter and what the boy was doing for the holidays, if anything. He had this inexplicable urge to invite him over. He couldn't explain where the feeling had come from, except that he knew the Parkers didn't have much in the way of family out here, and he'd been waffling with the idea of inviting them anyway, ignoring it only because he figured they would reject any offers, just to avoid being burdensome.

He never really understood people like that. No hidden agendas, no pressing advantages, no ulterior motives or designs on his person or his wealth.

He had a hard time figuring out what to do with good, genuine people.

This time, however, he knew exactly what he was going to do. He told Pepper his plan over breakfast, and she gave him a bright, cheery grin that removed any vestiges of darkness from that nightmare. She approved 100 percent.

Which led them to standing at the door of May and Peter Parker, staring at it as if it would knock itself.

"You know, they probably have plans," Tony said, taking a step back.

"Tony."

"I mean, they've got family somewhere. Christmas is in a week. This is pretty last minute."

The redhead looked him dead in the eye with a single raised eyebrow. "Didn't you take Peter with you to Berlin with a day's notice?"

"Well, yeah, but that was an international emergency—"

"I also recall the time you took him out of school to go upstate for an impromptu press conference. He was just told to get in the car, I believe?"

"You're taking that out of context. It was after school—"

"I was there, Tony," she deadpanned. Then her eyebrow started to rise in confusion. "What's so different that now a week is too short of notice for you?"

"Its… the holidays?"

Pepper shook her head, rolling her eyes at his ridiculousness before firmly knocking on the door. After a few moments of listening to the quiet voices inside, the door clicked open. "Ned, honey, I'm sorry. Peter was supposed to text you…" she trailed off as she finally took in the sight of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark standing in her doorway. Her eyes roved over them before settling on Tony. Slowly her eyebrows drew together, and a scowl marred her mouth and jaw.

"Hey there, May. How are you this morning?" Tony asked cheerfully. The scowl was nothing new. After she found out that he was the one who gave Peter his suit she was not his biggest fan.

Well, after she found out about the suit _and_ the fact that he knew the kid was patrolling but didn't tell her about it.

Okay, it was really when she found out that he dragged Peter to Berlin (pretty much against his will) to be hit in the face by Captain America.

Semantics.

"It's not a good time, Tony," she pushed out through gritted teeth. Her jaw was clenched so tightly, Tony was worried she might crack a tooth. "Goodbye." The door slammed in their faces.

Pepper blinked at the metal barrier between them.

"Did she just slam the door on us?"

Tony stared at the door with a small twist of his mouth. "You know, I think so. I feel… odd. And a little put out. Is this what rejection feels like? Because if it is, I now know why so many women were pissed at me when I had you kick them out—"

"Shh," Pepper hushed him, leaning toward the door. He leaned forward as well, listening.

Two raised voices were going back and forth in the apartment. Tony was trying to make out the conversation when suddenly the door was pulled open. Peter stood before them in Iron Man pajama bottoms and a grey t-shirt, looking up at Tony with huge, somewhat startled brown eyes.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Hey kid," Tony greeted Peter, briefly taking in his countenance before looking over his head. Just that cursory glance had Tony worried. Peter seemed pale, and his eyes were bloodshot. He wondered if Peter had a rough night too. "Can we come in? Nice pajamas, by the way," Tony smirked expecting Peter to roll his eyes or blush, but the boy simply stared at him for an amount of time that was decidedly not comfortable. Then he pulled the door open and stepped to the side, allowing Tony and Pepper to come in.

Tony crossed the threshold, Pepper a step behind him. May stood at an open entry way (most likely leading to a hall or kitchen), with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was closed off from head to toe, huffing slightly at his entrance. Tony moved his head around, taking in the features of the new apartment. "Well this is… cozy," he said with a small smile directed at May. The woman scowled at him even more (which Tony honestly believed wasn't possible until he saw it), before opening her mouth to speak.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming over here—no notice, by the way—"

"May," Peter began. Tony looked back to see the boy had his back pressed to the door, and he was twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands. He stared at his aunt with the widest cow-eyes Tony had ever seen. Cow-eyes that appeared to have little effect on May Parker when she was ready to rip someone a new one.

"No, Peter, not now. It's almost Christmas. For all he knew we weren't even going to be home, or were getting ready to leave," May started to build up steam, and Tony decided to head her off.

"Actually that's why I'm here," Tony said brightly. May seethed a little at being cutoff but gestured for him to continue. "That is to say… well in light of certain events we thought… I mean I just wanted to…"

"Tony and I wanted to invite you both to the Compound upstate for Christmas dinner," Pepper interjected with a bright smile. God, he could kiss this woman. He should kiss this woman. He eyed May warily. Maybe not right this second.

"Upstate?" Peter asked is a quiet voice. He looked absolutely confused, to say the least. Tony was a little insulted by this. It wasn't as if he never invited the kid over. Hell, he was at Tony's NBA Finals party last year. And yeah, granted, Tony wasn't there but he _invited_ the kid, didn't he? This wasn't so out of character to cause alarm.

"Of course. The tower here is in the process of being sold and Tony's penthouse is being renovated so we're having a party at the compound. It's nice because it is out of the way as well, so we don't have to worry about unwanted press coverage. May, it would be a delight if you and Peter could come," Pepper said smoothly. May began to respond, opening her mouth but Peter beat her to it.

"Why?"

That was not the reaction Tony was expecting. Peter locked eyes with the billionaire, having gone from confused to wary. Tony did not like that expression one bit. "Why not?"

"You didn't before." It was Tony's turn to be confused. Peter's expression didn't change. He looked over at Pepper who also appeared to be puzzled, then at May who looked alarmed, arms dropping to her sides as she began to turn towards her nephew.

"Well, no kid. I barely knew you last year so…. I mean don't get me wrong, I thought you were cool, and we were developing that mentor-mentee relationship, but we weren't there yet," Tony said with a smirk at the inside joke between them, waiting again for an eyeroll or blush or stammer or something. Instead Peter just went from stone cold steady to frustrated.

"That's not what I—ugh I mean what prompted you to invite us? What made you come to that decision?"

Tony's smirk disappeared as he eyed Peter. The boy's whole body had gone tense like he was waiting for a fight. His eyes did not waver once from Tony's face. He needed an honest answer, not a joke or a brush off. "I just didn't want you to be alone on Christmas," he said, finally able to articulate his reasoning in a way that he just wasn't able to with Pepper this morning. Something about seeing the kid clad in Iron Man pajamas with bed-head and those stupid cow-eyes pulled this little bit of honest irrationality from him. He knew the kid wouldn't be _alone_ alone, but there's a difference having one person to celebrate with instead of a whole family to celebrate with.

Oh God, he was getting soft. _Keep this up and we'll be doing the three-legged race together at the company picnic._

"How'd you know I'd be alone?" Peter straightened his spine and his wary expression was turning… hopeful? Tony wasn't sure what was going on. It felt like he was on some kind of a bender, but he didn't have anything to drink last night. Maybe someone put something in his food? It wouldn't be the first time. "Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark, how did you know that?" Peter drew his attention away from his wayward thoughts.

"Well I didn't know you'd be _alone_. I figured it would just be you and May. Wait, _are_ you going to be alone?"

"Why did you think it would just be me? Or just me and May? I never said anything. May's right, we could have been visiting family, so how did you know we wouldn't be out of town or something?" Peter's voice shook a little as he spoke, the hope fleeing and panic taking its place. Tony couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening.

"Peter," May began, taking a careful step toward him.

"No, seriously, it's weird that he knew, right? This didn't happen before—May stop looking at me like that!" Peter turned around, bowing his head and gripping his hair as he rested his forehead against the door. Pepper and Tony exchanged a bewildered expression as May walked to her nephew, stopping only when she was within touching distance. "I'm not crazy," Peter whispered. Tony stared at Peter's back, worried and at a loss.

"I didn't say you were. No one here said that, Peter. But can't you see how you're leaping to conclusions? Honey, I know you were scared last night," Tony latched onto that one. That kid's suit had dozens of protocols in place to alert Tony when the kid was in danger, and that was the first thing he checked when he woke up from his nightmare. Whatever happened, Peter wasn't in the suit. May frowned, stepping closer to her nephew. "You thought it was something real and terrifying but right now I need you to focus and be rational," May said calmly, touching Peter's shoulder. The boy dropped his hands and turned around, looking at May imploringly. May touched his hair and smiled a little when he leaned into her hands. He drew a slow breath, closing his eyes. May dropped her hands from his hair as he opened his eyes, once again staring at Tony.

"Mr. Stark, do you know anyone named Doctor Strange?" May pinched the bridge of her nose as Tony shrugged.

"Can't say that I do, kid," he said, slowly, still trying to connect the dots here.

Peter continued staring before giving a quick nod and lowering his eyes to the floor. After a moment of tense silence, the teenager excused himself with a mumble before darting to the back of the apartment, all eyes on him until he disappeared behind his door. May sighed before putting her hands on her hips.

"Why can't you act like a normal person and tell people when you're coming?" she said exasperated. The woman worried her lower lip as she stared between Pepper and Tony. "I just got him calmed down. Neither one of you are his parents. Neither one of you know the types of things he goes through! He's a seventeen-year-old boy on scholarship at a damn STEM school, and as if that's not enough pressure, he also has to go out at night and fight crime! In a mask! And spandex!"

"Okay, first of all I would never make a suit out of spandex, okay? It's flimsy and tacky. That suit is made from a one-of-a-kind terpolymer fabric that—no, that's not even the issue here. May, what the hell is going on with Underoos?" May glowered at him as Pepper shook her head slightly, most likely due to the nickname. Well it wasn't Tony's fault when he first met the kid he was running around in a homemade onesie. "You are never this mad when I show up, announced or not, and Pete's acting really off today. What happened last night that got him so wound up?"

May frowned at him before sighing and moving past him into the entrance she stood in front of earlier. Tony and Pepper both stared after her until she ducked her dark head back through the door. "Tea?"

Tony shrugged at Pepper after a moment, then decided to follow the redhead's lead. "Yes, please," she said with a nod as she followed May into what had to be the kitchen, Tony right behind them. "This really is a lovely home, Mrs. Parker," Pepper said as she leaned against the counter while May fussed with some metal tins. She had already put the kettle on the stove.

"Please, Pepper, call me May. I figure at this point we should be on a first name basis with each other," May said, not able to keep the exhaustion from her voice. "I have a few different kinds, Peppermint, chamomile, honey-lemon, green," May rambled as she rooted through the cupboard.

"I'll have whatever you're having, May. I'm not picky," she smiled. "Just as long as it doesn't have strawberry or hibiscus."

May smiled. "My late husband was allergic, so I'm not in the habit of keeping that one stocked. Is chamomile alright?"

"Yes, that's fine," both women looked to Tony expectantly. The engineer cleared his throat.

"I'm more of a coffee man, but thanks."

"I only have instant right now," May said, reaching for the mugs. "Will that do?"

Tony stared at her a little stunned before shaking his head. This woman was so angry with him moments ago, but was still offering him a different beverage? To suit his needs? Good, genuine people were just weird. "No, no thanks May. I'm not thirsty and I don't want you to waste a dish on me."

May nodded before pulling down only two mugs along with a jar of honey and one metal tea tin with a paper wrap. Tony waited as she dropped a bag in each mug, tapping his foot while she fussed and asked Pepper if she would like honey or sugar, how much and so on. Tony Stark was known for many things—his money, his intelligence, his promiscuousness—but patience was not one of them. He exhaled a little sharply and cleared his throat, drawing both women's attention. He raised his eyebrows at May, waiting for her to tell the story.

May folded her arms across her chest, breathing deeply. "I had to work a swing shift at the hospital yesterday," she began. Tony ceased moving and leaned back against the counter with Pepper, relieved he was finally getting the information he needed. "I got home late, probably around two in the morning. Shortly after I got home, I heard Peter start shouting. I ran back to his bedroom and when I turned on the light and looked at him," she bit her lip and looked away, towards the small kitchen window. It took a moment for her to continue. "I didn't know what was wrong. He was sitting up and looking at—at nothing, and when I got his attention, he looked at me and burst into tears!" she curled in on herself as Tony pondered what she said. It sounded like Peter had some kind of bad dream. Maybe even an episode—Pepper had been worried that the kid might develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Tony hadn't even talked to the kid about the possibility of using a S.H.I.E.L.D. therapist but judging by the look on May's face it may be time to see if there were options available for Spider-man. The kettle started to whistle. May gained her bearings as she filled the mugs with boiling water before handing one to Pepper.

"He was feverish and sweaty, but the worst of it was he just couldn't stop crying. It took ages to calm him down. He didn't want me to leave him, and Peter hasn't been needy or clingy like that since he was very young, and once shortly after Ben passed," she noted the lack of recognition in either face. "His uncle," she clarified. Tony could have smacked himself. He knew something happened to the kid's uncle, but never actually asked his name. He still didn't really know how Peter even got his powers. Oh sure, he asked once when they first met, but he was so appalled at the state of the kid's suit that he couldn't focus. He winced a little at the memory. "When I got him cleaned up and calmed down, he told me," she trailed off, pressing her lips together.

Pepper moved to stand next to her, both of them across from Tony now. "May, is it alright if I touch you?" Pepper asked calmly. May smiled and nodded, and Pepper reached a comforting arm around her shoulders. May released a breath and stared at the floor, trembling a little.

"He said he died. He said he turned into nothing and _died_ ," she let out quickly, shaking her head. Tony recalled the sharp anxiety he woke with, nearly certain that Peter was gone. "He told me this insane story where he had to save a wizard from an alien. And later he and the wizard and _you,_ " she gestured to Tony, "met some other aliens and a guy from _Missouri_ , and all of you had to fight some kind of monster. Then after all was said and done, he died. He died and met a woman who was a skeleton and saw his uncle and his parents—" she choked up, wiping the tears on her eyes away with her knuckle. Tony rubbed against the arc reactor—an anxious habit of his. May shuddered a little, leaning into Pepper. "It has to be some kind of a dream, right? That's crazy, right?" Tony tried to think of an adequate response but was drawing a blank. "I thought if he just calmed down and got some sleep, he would realize it was just a nightmare—an awful nightmare, but at least something that wasn't real. This morning, though, he woke up and told me it really, honestly happened and that he had to find Doctor Strange."

"So, that's why he asked me about him? Or her? The doctor?" Tony asked when he regained his ability to formulate questions.

"Yes," May said quietly into her undrunk mug.

"Why was he acting so oddly when me and Tony showed up?" Pepper asked.

May smiled ruefully. "Because you didn't come before. The last time he supposedly lived through this."

"Come again?" Tony asked, raising his eyebrows.

"He thinks he's lived through this. He thinks he's going to die in April."

"Because of aliens?"

"And a purple monster, yes." Tony wondered at the story, picking at pieces of it in his mind as the women chattered about what to do, just outside his focus. A purple monster and aliens. Well aliens, that could easily happen, seeing as it had before. A purple monster was not so far outside the realm of possibility, considering just last week Tony had a fight with a guy in a mechanical rhino suit—which seemed more far-fetched, really. Even the time travel was a possibility. Unlikely, but he _had_ been following Doctor Pym's research about the Quantum Realm. If someone could figure out how to tunnel through, the possibility for time travel was exceedingly high. Coming back from the dead was doubtful, but hell, if Deadpool could do it _all_ the time, why not Spider-man just the once? No the only thing he couldn't wrap his mind around was the wizard. Magic was not real. That dream last night though….

" _Mr. Stark? I don't feel so good,"_

 _Panic. Fear. Loneliness. "You're alright,"_

" _I don't—I don't know what's happening."_

"Hey, here's an idea," he said, clapping his hands together and drawing the others' attention. "Let's entertain it."

"What?" Pepper asked flatly.

"Entertain… what?" May asked in confusion.

"Let's entertain his story. Uh, let's pretend, for a minute, that everything Pete's saying makes sense and is possible."

"But it's not possible!" May exclaimed, throwing up her hands and dislodging Pepper's arm.

"Isn't it, though? I mean, let's face it May, we've seen some crazy things over the years, haven't we?"

"Well, I mean I suppose so."

"Super soldiers coming out of the ice, aliens, mutants? I mean, the world has gone a little crazy don't you think?" Tony went on, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

"Tony, what are you thinking?" Pepper asked, getting straight to the point.

"I just think we don't need to discount his story first thing, maybe there's something to it. Maybe he has some pre-cognitive powers we don't know about. I mean, they're developing as he's growing, right? It's possible, is all I'm saying," Tony rambled, not making eye contact with either occupant.

"No, no Tony I need more then that. I don't want to entertain an idea that could easily be a delusion that came from a traumatized mind," Pepper said firmly. "Believing things are real that aren't, seeing things that aren't there, it's not something to take lightly. We should be talking about getting Peter to see a therapist, unless you have a good reason to believe him."

Tony frowned at his fiancée, trying to put his thoughts into words. That dream disturbed him more than he could say. It bothered him so much, but he was struggling to explain it in a way that didn't make him sound like an emotional wreck. He knew it was important for at least Peter's sake. "Last night I woke up around 2:00 AM from a nightmare," he said, staring right at Pepper, glancing over to May to see if he had her attention. He did. "I," he cleared his throat, "I can't remember seeing anything, but I remember I was holding someone—holding Peter," May brought her hand to her mouth, pressing it against her lips, "and he was… we were alone, and he was scared," he turned his attention briefly from Pepper to look into May's eyes. "He was dying," she gasped a little. He blinked and looked at the floor. "I remember I held him, and he said some things, then I felt him fade away," he cleared his throat again, then looked back up at Pepper. "I have a dream about him dying, and he has a dream about it to? We both woke up at the same time? In our line of work, you don't ignore a coincidence like that. We have to give it some weight until we figure out what's going on."

May stared at him hard before turning and setting her mug back on the counter. She nodded once, resolutely before turning back to face him. "Alright. What do you propose we do then?"

"We ask Peter to tell me and Pepper about what happened, then we try to find this Doctor Strange."

May frowned again, "I don't want you getting him worked up over this."

"I won't, I'll be nice. As sweet as pie, honest," Tony said with his hands up. May shook her head. "Or Pepper can ask him about it and I can just sit there and listen." May sighed, clearly not liking this plan. "May, listen, I defer to you. You're his mom, not me," May raised an eyebrow at that and Tony shrugged. "I know a mom when I see one. Maybe it's not by blood, but it's still there all the same." She huffed out a small laugh at that. "But if he's right, if he really did die and by some miracle got a second chance? Shouldn't we do everything in our power to help him, and start by listening to his story with an open mind?"

May sighed, finally relenting. "Fine, Tony. Fine. I'll give it another listen and see if we can find a wizard. But he worked himself into a state yesterday, and I don't want that repeated. We're going at a slow pace and we're all going to be calm about it, alright? Then we'll see if we can look up this Doctor Strange."

"You're the boss, May," Tony said with a grin.

"PETER?" May shouted so loudly that Tony jumped, a little surprised. Pepper looked startled too. "PETER, PLEASE COME OUT HERE!" They waited a few minutes but when there was no sign of the brunette, May sighed and shook her head. "He's probably got those headphones in. I'll get him. Just a minute," she said as she left the kitchen. Pepper glanced at Tony, deep in thought.

"You didn't tell me about your dream," she said slowly. Tony shrugged. "I guess you don't usually tell me about them, though. You really thought Peter died? That's why you suddenly got out of bed and checked his tracker and vitals and everything?"

Tony sighed, unable to make eye contact. "It was so stupid, Pepper. I knew he was fine, that he didn't suddenly die in my arms but then I thought what if? What if his soul is reaching out to me to let me know he's going, that he'll be gone when I wake up? What if it's a warning and I can still save him?"

"That's not stupid, Tony. That's having a heart. It happens. We worry—both rationally and irrationally—about the people we care for," she smiled at him, crossing the small kitchen to entwine their hands. "We do have physical evidence that you have a heart, remember?" Tony smiled at his partner, relieved that she would help them through this.

"PETER?" May's sudden shout alarmed Tony and Pepper, the former partially suiting up with the nanotechnology in his arc reactor. Once his gauntlets wrapped around his arms and hands, he ran down the hall towards Peter's room, arm in front and ready to blast. May met him halfway, eyes frightened.

"He left! His window is unlocked. He's gone!"

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Dun dun DUN! Obvious cliff-hanger is obvious? Did anyone else know the second Peter walked out of sight, he walked (well, wall-crawled) right out of the apartment? He's distraught and no one believes him. We've all seen how he behaves. Now you may be wondering at my May anger/protectiveness levels. Inspiration for that is Ultimate Spider-man (comics). She is fierce. She gets on the phone with JJJ and bitches him out for unjustly firing her nephew from his job. Like a BAMF. She's a 50-60 year old woman, not taking any guff from teenagers. I love her. As for Tony being quick to believe Peter, I feel that since the consequences from Homecoming he'd be more open to what the kid has to say to him (he was in the movie, just bad at communicating that he was listening), and he's seen some very weird things in his time. No reason to doubt until he's heard the story himself. May on the other hand has only recently learned about Spider-man, and does not have wild encounters with mutants or aliens or anything like that, so she wouldn't immediately assume that anything Peter said was possible (when you really think about it, that sequence of events is completely insane. No wonder Tom Holland thought he was given a fake script). Not when everything from her talk with Peter had an easy explanation. _

_I'm ***thinking*** one to two more chapters on this. It should be wrapping up soon. Hope you like, and please leave a review!_


	3. The Future Lies, I Will Not Go

_**A/N:** So this came out of nowhere. I am not kidding. I was working on the third chapter, and this little interlude popped in. Peter just said to me, "Hey, come on, give me a voice now."_

 _So I did some saaaaad location-oriented research for this. I am on the opposite side of the country. I don't know the language. ;) I hope my sad google-mapping was correct._

 _Also last time I said one or two more chapters. Now it's more like... two or three. Heh. Sorry, not sorry?_

 _Enjoy._

 _Chapter Title is from Present, Past, and Future by Beware of Darkness._

* * *

He hunched forward on the train, staring at the floor in front of him as he felt the rattle of the metal wheels speeding along the tracks. Metallic grinding filled his ears and his headphones dangled uselessly around his neck. The man sitting across from him reeked of an obnoxious mix of body odor and marijuana, and the bright lights in the train reflected on every surface, making him squint. All the input was making him nauseous. Everything was dialed to eleven, and of course, the stupid F train had been delayed _again._ He shivered, burrowing his face a little further in his coat, until only his nose and eyes were visible. His phone sat in his pocket, untouched, occasionally buzzing with some notification or other.

Peter kind of wished that Karen was with him, that he could swing uptown without having to worry about the bullshit that came with public transportation, but that was a surefire way for Mr. Stark to track him. He couldn't be found yet, not while no one believed him. He had to fix things. There was so much more at stake then just his life.

Although that alone was a pretty good motivator.

Peter closed his eyes tightly, willing the nausea to pass, wrapping an arm across his abdomen. He tried so hard not to think of May's face last night, or Tony's that morning. God, Mr. Stark must have thought he was nuts. How could he explain that they hadn't invited him before? That things were different this time around? How could he explain that he knew why?

" _Hand me that Philips, kid," Tony mumbled around some screws in his mouth as he set down the first screwdriver he was working with. Peter glanced at the corner of his work area and grabbed the tool Tony was gesturing for, placing it in his hand before returning to his new web-fluid formula. "Thanks."_

" _You're welcome, Mr. Stark," Peter replied, tapping a pencil against the notepad before tweaking the equation. He was absorbed in his work, but not enough to miss when Tony set his own project down a few minutes later._

" _So," his mentor began, leaning away from his work area before swiveling his body to face Peter. Peter looked up with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "I hear you may have a date for Valentine's day."_

 _Peter could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and hastily turned away, trying to stop the burning of his ears. "Ah, geez, Mr. Stark,"_

" _Ah-ah-ah-ah," Peter could see Mr. Stark waving a finger at him in his peripheral. "Nope. I want to hear it. Tell me about her."_

 _Peter rubbed the back of his neck._

" _Him?"_

 _Peter's eyebrows shot up and he shook his head frantically. "What? Noo-o-o-o-o," he said through a nervous laugh. Not that he had a problem with people who were gay, and it was cool that Mr. Stark was okay with it but kind of weird that he was giving off that vibe? Not that he really thought about it_ that _much, but maybe he was? He did have that dream about Captain America that he will_ never speak of to anyone ever _but that didn't make him gay, per se, and no one was 100% straight anyway, but still it would be nice not to have to focus on that particular question while he was trying to figure out how much phosphorus was too much for his newest batch of web-fluid._

" _Okay, tell me about her, then," Tony grinned, folding his arms across his chest. Peter sighed and dropped his pencil on the table._

" _She kind of said no," he mumbled, looking at his shoes._

" _What?" the sheer indignation in the other man's voice made Peter smile a little. "Why?"_

" _Because Valentine's is a commercialized holiday with no true meaning other than to line the pockets of massive corporations everywhere, and it's cliché to the point where it's now unromantic and unoriginal. And I'm a nerd."_

 _Tony grasped his shoulder and shook it a little. "Kid, that's rough, but you know if she can't see what's great about you, then it's her loss."_

 _Peter smiled a little more. "Yeah, well, she and I are going out next week instead. You know. Not on Valentine's." He glanced up at Tony to see his eyebrows raised a little in confusion before they furrowed like he was trying to figure out the problem with whatever design he was working on._

 _After a few minutes of silence, Mr. Stark slowly removed his hand from Peter's shoulder. "Well, I've got to be honest Underoos. She sounds like a real maneater."_

 _Peter nodded. "Oh, yeah, she's uh… she's terrifying."_

 _Tony's eyebrows raised in alarm._ " _Then why the hell are you going out with her if she scares you?"_

 _Peter laughed a little. "She doesn't_ scare _me. I mean, she does but like… in a really good way? Like, rollercoaster scary, not The Vulture scary. And she's smart and funny and pretty and—" Peter caught sight of the smile playing around Mr. Stark's lips, like he was trying really hard not to let it show. "—I'm gonna stop talking now."_

 _Mr. Stark chuckled. "Whatever floats your boat, Parker. Still, no date for Valentine's day? Are you hanging out with your hot Aunt?"_

 _Peter winced a little. "Gross, Mr. Stark. And no, she apparently has a date that night, so I'm just going to work on homework and maybe patrol a little."_

 _Tony's eyebrows went down again. He cocked his head slightly as if to bring his ear closer to Peter._ " _Wait, you're going to be alone? On Valentine's Day? What about your friend, Ted?"_

" _Ned. And he has a date so I'm flying solo. It's not a bad thing Mr. Stark, I mean, Valentine's Day is not nearly as big a deal as Christmas and I was alone then."_

" _What?!"_

He remembered. Tony remembered. Somehow, this time, he knew in his subconscious that Peter would be alone on Christmas. He remembered something Peter told him two months from now. It gave Peter so much hope. He could stop what was coming, he could convince the Avengers of what they needed to do.

The conductor announced the next stop. Peter stood and moved toward the compartment doors with several others, then once they opened, he escaped into the dank air of the tunnel. He kept his head up as he walked up the stairs into the light. Snow was still falling, dusting Peter's black knit hat with white. He was glad it had let up a little bit on the train ride. He breathed out a small sigh as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up GoogleMaps. "Okay," he mumbled, typing quickly and zooming in on the image in the cracked screen. "100 block on Bleecker Street," he looked up and started heading down Sixth Avenue, hoping he was close to right. He wasn't sure where on Bleecker street he would end up, not being very familiar with Greenwich Village, but he remembered that Dr. Strange _said_ Bleecker street. One-something-something Bleecker Street.

Suddenly he felt the hair on his arms stand up, a sharp spike of adrenaline shot up his spine to settle at the base of his neck. He stood, frozen, terrified. Then he was knocked aside out of nowhere as a man with a heavy bag sprinted by shouting, "Watch it, kid!" Peter stumbled and pressed his gloved hand against the brick wall next to him, trying to will himself to breathe. He was shaking, vibrating, falling apart. It started inside, somewhere deep and unknown before it started making its way outwards, pressing against his skin. He was dry like the dusty land around him, Mr. Stark was nowhere to be found— _but he's supposed to be here. Where is he? I don't want to be alone_. He could taste the damp, decomposing smell of old compost on his tongue as he struggled to find his bearings, to keep himself together, to not drift apart into nothingness like the others—

"Hey, breathe. It's alright, son, just breathe. You can come back. Open your eyes. Look around you," a deep, soothing voice reached Peter's ears and he gasped, stumbling again and pressing his back against the wall. He blinked, taking in the traffic—horns and shouts and road noise. As his eyes refocused, he took note of the yellow cabs zipping through the intersection, much brighter than the muted SUVs and commuter cars following the same path. He focused on the snowflakes, now fatter, drifting from the sky and landing on every surface. An arm was held out to him, a hand within touching distance of his shoulder, waiting for permission to land. Peter's eyes trailed up the hand in front of him—clad in a soft black glove—up the thick black sleeve of a warm winter jacket encasing a strong arm and shoulder, across a dark blue scarf and up to a very concerned face. Dark, neatly trimmed hair circled a generous mouth and strong jaw. Peter finally looked up into a pair of deep brown eyes beneath strong brows and a blue knit cap, staring steadily on as he hyperventilated. Peter felt a sense of familiarity, but it was a whisper in the scream of his panic.

"Is it alright if I touch you?" Peter's rational self was screaming at him to get a grip and not let a stranger comfort him, but he nodded anyway as reflexive tears filled his eyes due to lack of oxygen. The man settled his hand on Peter's shoulder, a heavy reminder that he was still here. "You're in the Village, okay kid? Just try to take slow deep breaths, that's it. Easy does it." The stranger's voice was low and soothing, a focus point amidst the chaos in Peter's mind. "You're alright. Just try to breathe with me. My name is Sam, okay? I'm Sam and we're together in the Village. What's your name? Can you tell me your name?"

Peter shuddered, focusing on the collar of the other man's jacket where he could see the movement on the street behind them as he tried to process the question. "P-P-P-Peter," he stuttered out, feeling harsh dust blowing against his face in the middle of New York on a snowy winter day.

"Hi Peter. It's nice to meet you," his voice was steady, the contact of his hand was firm and constant, pulling Peter back to reality. He blinked a few tears out of his eyes before moving them back to the familiar face in front of him.

 _But how do I know him?_

"Are you alright?" Sam asked gently, hand still steady on Peter's shoulder. Peter nodded, averting his eyes. The man ducked his head to catch his gaze again. "Hey, no, it's okay, Peter. I've seen a lot worse, trust me."

Peter nodded again. "Thank you, sir. I'm alright."

"Okay, Peter," Sam said as he dropped his hand. For a moment Peter felt bereft, irrationally thinking the touch was the only thing keeping him solid, but he caught himself before asking for more comfort from a stranger. The man looked up at the sky, and Peter mirrored him.

"It's really coming down, huh? Man these winters are awful. I should have stayed in Jamaica," Sam said wistfully. Peter glanced at him then looked back up the street in the direction he was headed. "You know where you're going?"

Peter sighed. "Y-yeah… I think so." Sam raised an eyebrow, disbelief clear in his expression. Peter sighed. "I don't know. I'm trying to find… well… someone named Doctor Strange," he said with a wince. He already knew just the name was rough to process. Who knew what Sam would think of him when he found out Peter was looking for a wizard.

"Doctor Strange? Isn't he the guy who looks like he's on his way to a renaissance fair?" Sam sounded a little exasperated when describing the other man.

Peter blinked at the man momentarily, his mouth hanging open.

"You know what I mean. He wears a goddamn cape."

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, grinning suddenly.

"Yeah kid. I know him. You looking into the mystic arts or something?" Peter felt a sense of relief wash over him.

"Something like that, yeah. It's more of a—well he knows things, I guess?"

Sam nodded. "Sounds about right. Trying to see about healing?" Peter hesitated a moment then nodded. Sam smiled again. "There are some guys who come back with some pretty intense problems. Vets, I mean. I'm a counselor and I help veterans adjust when they come back. Some want a different kind of help and they do really well with whatever kind of program Doctor Strange has. Do you need the address?"

"Yes, please," Peter couldn't believe his luck. Usually things went terribly for him. He figured he'd be wandering around for hours hoping no one would try to mug him (he was still shaky and didn't know if he could control his strength at this point). Instead the second he got off the subway he found someone who could point him in the right direction. Sure, he had to have a flashback to get this person's attention, but that seemed like a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

"You just keep going up 6th a little ways—you're gonna pass a McDonalds—then turn left onto Bleecker. It's a big old fancy building that'll be on your side of the street. You can't miss it. It's really out of place considering it's between a smoke shop and a tattoo parlor."

Peter grinned hugely at Sam, wrapping his hands around one of his and shaking it vigorously. "Oh, thank you Mr. Sam, sir. Thank you!" he said before he took off down the street.

"You're welcome," Sam called out. Peter glanced back to see Sam watching him with a look of amusement mixed with bewilderment on his face. Peter waved before heading to his goal. He would find Doctor Strange and say what he was supposed to for the wizard to believe him. He would fix everything!

He would save them this time.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2:**_ _So? What'd you think? Hope this worked out for people. I did some deliberate word choice in this chapter. I have been trying to capture everyone's voices as well as I can, and this one was tricky because I feel like I'm working with two Peters: Pre Infinity War and Post Infinity War. Kind of tricky. Hopefully it came across well. Hope you enjoyed! Please review!_


	4. All The Ends I Couldn't Change

_**A/N:** Heeeeeeeeey. _

_So yeah, I'm definitely not dead. Sorry about the long wait on an update. I started a story for the spider-verse big bang that I didn't finish in time, so that took over for a hot minute. Also, every time I came back to this one, the struggle was real. Doctor Strange is... difficult for me. I already know very little about him (outside of his random appearances in Spider-man, and his MCU character). He is a very hard character, and my muse seriously just kind of left me. On the bright side, this one is OVER now, and there should only be one chapter left. The last chapter should be posted before Endgame. And hey, a new fun AU soon too. So woooooo!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Title is from_ Haunted _by The Rescues._

* * *

Stephen slowly opened his eyes, staring at a steaming mug that was set on the table in front of him. He lifted his gaze, seeing Wong settle across from him on the floor.

"Tea to ail what is troubling you, Stephen?" the aging master settled into a lotus position gracefully, staring at Stephen with an incredibly still and piercing gaze.

The Sorcerer Supreme rolled his neck before reaching for the mug. The dream he had was unsettling. He sipped the beverage, organizing his thoughts. "Wong," he began, somewhat cautiously, thinking of how to word his question. "Can the Third Eye be stimulated and opened while dreaming outside of a sorcerer's own influence?"

Wong remained still and calm, silently pondering Stephen's words. "Yes." Stephen waited for more information, trying to hold still despite his impatience.

His impatience won out. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"I do not know what you think needs elaborating. You asked if the Eye can be stimulated and opened. It can."

"Really, you're a dream. The best sidekick a sorcerer could ask for," Stephen grumbled.

"Perhaps in some universes. Here I am your mentor and companion," he stared at Stephen for another moment. "Reluctant companion."

"Thanks Lorde. I'm glad to know how much you care," Stephen scoffed. "What could happen to cause the third eye to open in sleep, other than me intentionally influencing it?"

Wong looked upward for a moment, whether in thought at Stephen's question or exasperation at his joke, the sorcerer wasn't sure. "Any number of things, although usually it would be due to tampering, or meditative dreaming. It depends on what you Saw." Stephen nodded, taking another sip of tea. Wong stared at him for another moment before asking, "what is it you Saw, Stephen?"

Stephen sighed and began to rise, and Wong followed. "I didn't See anything, actually. I heard voices, and tried to explain," he paused, unsure what to say.

"Explain what?"

"I'm… not sure. I think I was trying to explain why… why someone had to die." Together the duo walked down the hallway, passing several relics displayed in glass cases. "It was a dream, but it had a sense of realism to it that I can't explain. Almost like a shadow. Something that was or could be."

"I see," Wong said with a small nod.

"What do you think it means?"

"It could mean any number of things, but if it is a shadow of death—well, your Eye giving you this vision could be the result of a great cataclysm," Wong said, calmly, as though discussing current events.

"A cataclysm. Yes, this is perfect. I'm having half-baked visions of disasters," Stephen rolled his eyes as the made their way past the magical items and toward the stairway to the foyer.

" _Perhaps_ it is from some terrible event, but it also could be caused by something equally significant." Wong furrowed his eyebrows as he said this.

"What?"

A knock sounded on the door. The two men looked at each other before Stephen manipulated the energy in the room and twisted the doorknob, pulling the door open a crack, while Wong placed them in the mirror dimension so they would be unseen at the top of the stairs.

"Uh… hello?" a small, raspy tenor came from the doorway. "Hello, is… is Doctor Strange here?" the voice continued. The door was pushed open further, and a young man stepped in. He was dressed in a thick blue coat and wore a black beanie on his head. He was definitely young—probably a teenager, 15 or 16 years old. The boy pulled his hat off and ran his fingers through his messy, brown hair, trying to fix it a little. Stephen narrowed his eyes. He had never seen this child before, but he still felt familiar to the sorcerer.

"Uh," the boy stepped forward after shutting the door behind him, looking around the foyer. "Hello? Is… is anyone home?" Wong walked away from Stephen, out of sight, then came back towards him, trailed by golden sparks. The boy looked up as Wong moved back into view, then his shoulders slumped a little as Wong descended the stairs. He appeared to be a little disappointed, but he straightened up and gave a small smile. "Hi? Hi. I'm uh, Peter. Peter Parker? I-I'm looking for Doctor Strange?" Wong said nothing as he approached. Peter straightened up a little more, but otherwise did not move from his spot. Wong finally stopped to stand in front of him. Stephen couldn't see Wong's expression, but he was willing to bet Wong was giving Peter the same stink-eye he gave Stephen when they first met. "I was told that this is where he lives?" Peter added, a little desperately. Stephen moved towards the pair, stopping when he stood beside the teenager.

The first thing the wizard noticed was that the kid was short. Shorter than Wong, by a few inches. The next—and more prominent—thing he saw was the boy had an air of desperation about him that fully tainted his aura. It was as though his soul was cracked then put back together with some tape and glue. A darkness clung to him that could not be removed. The Eye of Agamotto reacted rather strongly to this boy. It knew him, somehow.

Wong turned and started to walk away. He noticed about halfway up the stairs that the Parker boy hadn't followed him yet, and he raised an eyebrow. The boy stared at him blankly. Wong impatiently gestured with his head up the stairs and Parker let out a small "oh," as he quickly followed the other. Stephen walked behind them, wondering what information Wong would manage to pull from this boy.

"How did you come to the Sanctum Sanctorum?" Wong asked as they reached the platform. He led him down past the room of ancient artifacts to a small, warmly lit room with a low table and cushions on the floor.

"I uh—well a man named Sam told me. He said he's sent soldiers to you before who need healing sometimes." The boy said as he sank onto a cushion opposite Wong. It appeared Wong's steady gaze unnerved the teenager a little, because he began to babble. "Not that I need healing or anything. That is to say I don't think I need healing, but I do need magic. If he does magic. Does he do magic? As far as you know?" Peter trailed off slightly. Wong didn't change his expression at all. "Not that I'd know if he does magic. I haven't even met him or seen him do any magicky things like make butterflies out of nothing or create little circles that send you from one place to another in like, a second or anything. But if he _did_ do that sort of thing then I really need to talk to him."

Stephen had heard enough. He wasn't sure what the butterfly thing was about but it was well within his capabilities, and the description of his creation of portals with the sling ring prompted him to make himself known. He pulled apart the threads between dimensions, appearing in front of them and closing the portal to the mirror world behind him. Parker blinked at his sudden appearance, mouth dropping open.

"I believe you were seeking my assistance?"

The boy blinked two more times before he decided to speak. "Oh my God, that is so cool!" Strange smirked a little at the praise, taking in the boy's delighted expression. The wonderment on his face was short-lived, however. His eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lower lip, taking in the sight of the sorcerer with some trepidation.

"What is it?" Stephen asked, as the cracks in the young man's aura became more prevalent. A shadow clung to him, making him wrong in this world. Something… unnatural happened to him. The infinity stone that hung around his neck sang in recognition, vibrating slightly.

Peter shook his head a little, looking down. "I… I don't think you'll believe me."

"Young man, I am a master of the mystic arts," Stephen replied, sternly. "I deal with many things beyond your understanding, so I have to wonder why you think I won't believe what you have to say when someone obviously told you to seek me out." How else could this child know of his abilities?

"Be-because the person who told me to find you was the same one who warned me you might not believe what I had to say," Peter gulped and looked up, meeting Stephen's gaze. "And that person was, well, you." The shadows of Stephen's dreams started to take shape as he stared into the endless brown eyes in front of him. Flashes of maybes and what-ifs passed in front of him, blurring together with only some images shining through with clarity.

"I know it's… it's weird, but I swear I've met you before. I mean, I mean I will meet you."

" _I'm Peter, by the way," the boy said, suit whirring lightly as he extended his hand to shake. Stephen ground his teeth, stuck between an excitable child and an annoying super-hero philanthropist._

" _Dr. Strange," he replied, curtly._

 _Peter dropped his hand and nodded in recognition. "Oh, you're using your made-up name. Um, I'm Spider-man, then."_

 _Stephen bit back his response at the boy's misunderstanding of his birth name, moving his gaze to a view of a dark, cold room with a single window looking out into the stars that surrounded them, blinking away._

"We're, uh, we're gonna fight a _real_ bad guy together," Peter said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

 _Stephen couldn't help but admire that sixth sense the boy had, making it possible for them to work seamlessly together. He'd open one portal after another, watching Spider-man leap through again and again, distracting the Cosmic Titan with quips as well as hits. They were doing well, until Thanos finally caught on to the pattern Stephen was setting and threw the boy into him to stop them._

"And, um, we're… we're gonna die together, too." Peter's voice cracked as he looked away, wrapping his arms around himself.

 _Stephen looked into Stark's eyes, taking in his bewilderment. He couldn't know, he couldn't understand that it was up to him, now. That the death of his boy would serve as a catalyst, setting things into motion that would either damn them or save them. "There was no other way," he said, fear creeping into his heart as he felt his body fading from this world, the carriage of his soul dissolving into nothingness._

"You said I was the connection. I was the one that Mr. Stark would try to save with circumstance being what it was, and that I would have to remember and convince you that it was real." He looked up, tears glistening in his eyes, arms squeezing around himself even tighter. Wong held still, tense as a bowstring, ready to snap into action.

Stephen pondered over his words, images brief but sharp in his mind, all but confirming Parker's story. Spider-man's story. Who knew that this boy was the masked vigilante swinging through the Burroughs, keeping people safe from every day crime? It sounded impossible, what the boy was saying, but he had learned long ago that nothing was truly impossible. Even natural law could be violated to obtain an outcome. Ends and means, after all. "And what was supposed to convince me, pray tell?"

Peter looked up, eyes wet and mouth pressed firmly closed. He sniffled a little, shaking his head slightly.

Stephen stepped forward, towering over the boy. Peter trembled a little but stood his ground. "It has to be more than a mad story and you looking like a kicked, frozen puppy," Stephen snarled out. If he told this kid to seek him out, if that future happened and they spoke to each other beyond the veil, he would have given him _something_ that would convince him.

"' _Time will tell how much I love you,'_ " Peter blurted out, panicked at the man's proximity and venom. Stephen inhaled sharply and took a step back. Peter dropped his arms, holding his head high. "It's on your watch. The one that doesn't work anymore but that you refuse to take off." The sorcerer had to resist glancing at his left wrist, the ever-present, broken, precious gift from his beloved still there. The glamour placed on it should still be in effect, but the boy had no way of seeing it anyway, since it was hidden beneath his sleeve. "Because it's from Christine."

Stephen stared at Peter a moment longer before exchanging a glance with Wong. Wong merely shrugged slightly, indicating he would follow Stephen's lead on this one.

"I think," Stephen began slowly, "that we should sit down together, and you should tell me the whole story, start to finish."

Peter gasped a little and smiled. "Really? Really, you don't think I'm crazy or something?"

"Young man, the only way you could know about this watch is if you practice magic yourself. I have covered that inscription to all eyes but my own. The fact that you know it is broken is something of a miracle." Stephen said, gesturing back towards the seats around the table. "I said before I deal with the unexplained, with things beyond your comprehension. I have told you what you needed to tell me to believe you. I am almost without doubt that you crossed the realm back to this world, but why, I'm not sure."

"Half of all life in the universe will be erased," Peter said, dark eyes worn and serious.

Stephen raised both eyebrows at this. "Then we haven't any time to lose. You must tell me everything.

* * *

 _A/N: PHEW! Yeah, that was a hard one. I'm trying to play into the idea that Doctor Strange knows everything, and he always knows everything even when he's not sure he knows it? Did that make sense? He kind of an omniscient guy, but he's not really, but he usually has more information than others because you know, magic. Anyway, one chapter left to go! It should be posted soon. Thanks for reading, and please feel free to drop a review!_


	5. So I'll Never Have to be Alone Again?

_**A/N:** Well, I said it would be done before Endgame came out, and that premiered pretty much everywhere today, so..._

 _But I still haven't seen it, so I think it counts. ;)_

 _Here is the final chapter of Bear the Burden of Responsibility. Once again we're using Tony's POV. It seemed like the best way to wrap it up. I want to reiterate what I said in the beginning. This is the beginning of a resolution for Infinity War. I don't have the creativity or the patience to write a full fledged story (AU at this point most likely) to see where this goes. It would have a thousand plot holes. And most likely a Mary Sue. It's better this way, trust me. It's meant to be open ended. I hope that doesn't bother you, and you knew what you were signing up for. If not, I sincerely apologize._

 _Chapter title is from Present, Past and Future by Beware of Darkness_

* * *

When May announced Peter must have sneaked out his window, Tony did the smart thing. He immediately opened his phone, tapped Friday and started tracking the kid's suit (because when would he go anywhere without the suit?), which led him straight to Peter's closet.

There was the suit, but no kid was in sight. For half a second, he thought the kid had turned invisible (don't some spiders have a camouflaging ability?) before he realized how stupid he was being. Parker left the suit behind on purpose.

The next step was to have Friday run facial recognition on all the traffic cameras within a 10-mile radius. After about half an hour of searching, he finally managed to trace the kid to a subway station before he dropped off the map altogether. He pulled up several schedules and routes, crosschecking with any known addresses for people under the surname Strange, and was having a difficult time narrowing down his list seeing as there were 186 people with the last name Strange in New York City, of which 30 had the title of Doctor. He was working the algorithms for about 15 more minutes, finding some conclusive information of three possible clinics and five residential locations the kid may have gone to when May burst back into the room wringing her hands, Pepper trying to be a calming presence behind her.

"I've called him three times, and he won't pick up. I know he's off the train now, too, because his phone isn't automatically going to voicemail."

Tony perked his head up, cocking his head to the side slightly. "What was that?"

"Peter won't pick up his phone," May said, pacing the length of the small room.

"But, why… he didn't leave it behind?"

Pepper shook her head a little. "We would have heard it ringing. Tony, he's a teenager. Do you really think he'd go anywhere without his phone?"

His phone. Why didn't he try to just track the kid's phone? He could kick himself. A few taps on the screen of his own device and he saw an icon moving along 6th Avenue, nowhere near any of the locations he originally pulled up. "Got him."

"You found him?" May asked crowding him to look at the screen. "How? Where?"

"Kid knew I could track his suit; didn't realize I could track his phone. He's in Greenwich Village." Tony stood, causing May to take a step back. "Alright. I'm getting my suit on and I'll bring him right back—"

"Excuse me? You'll do no such thing. That's my kid out there, and we're going to get him together," May said sharply.

"May, I'll get to him in 4 minutes in the suit, we won't be wasting any time this way."

"It'll take 30 in a cab. Peter can take care of himself, but he needs to know we're here for him. I know he looks up to you, Tony, but between the two of us, he'll listen to me."

"May—"

"You said I'm the boss."

"Yes—"

"Well then let's go get my kid."

Tony huffed. "What makes you so sure he'll do what you say?"

May raised an eyebrow. "Because I have the power to ground him."

So, half an hour later found Tony staring up at a heavy wooden door, taking in the grandiose building that had no business in this area, even though it was pretty obvious that the neighborhood grew up around it. May stood right behind him, taking it in. He stared at the tarnished plating that read 177A Bleeker St, then looked down at his phone, finding the blinking blue icon, indicating his lost spiderling was somewhere in that huge, old, out-of-place… house? Museum? It was hard to say.

"Tony, will you please knock on the door?" May asked, twisting her fingers again. If she had it in her, he was certain she'd be tapping her foot. Tony wished for Pepper's presence as a buffer, to help keep May calm, but she elected to stay behind in case Peter decided to come back and they lost him in route. Tony took in a deep breath, knocking firmly on the door, rapping hard enough to sting his knuckles. Apparently, he was about to meet a wizard, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

The door creaked open, and a stocky Asian man around Tony's height stood before them, staring blankly.

Tony smiled. "Hello."

The man's expression did not change.

"Well, I probably don't need to introduce myself—"

"It would be polite to do so, and most likely in your best interest," the man interrupted.

"Wait, you know who I am, right?"

The man blinked at him, still blocking the doorway.

"Oh my God, this is shocking. I hardly ever run into this. This feels like a photo op—"

"Please, my name is May Parker," May stepped around Tony, holding out her phone. The screen revealed a selfie of May and Peter smiling into the camera. "We're looking for my nephew." The man glanced between the phone and the woman, raising an eyebrow. "Please, please have you seen him? I'm so worried. He left on… on bad terms and I just need to know he's okay," she said, tearing up a little. The man nodded and opened the door wider to let them in.

"Let me put you at ease. He is here, and he is safe. Can I assume since he is an acquaintance of Iron Man that you know the reason he sought out the Sanctum Sanctorum?"

"I knew you knew who I was," Tony muttered.

"I am Wong. Young Mr. Parker came by not too long ago to speak with Doctor Stephen Strange."

"The wizard?"

Wong blinked, arching an eyebrow. "Well, he prefers the term sorcerer, but yes, essentially."

"I need to see him," May said, looking over his shoulder.

"I am afraid they are busy at the moment. It may disturb you to see what is happening."

"Wait, what?" Tony said, eyes narrowing. "What exactly is Strange doing to my kid?"

Oh, that wasn't supposed to slip out. May stared at him for a heartbeat before turning back to Wong. "Our kid," she said and Tony's heart warmed at the acknowledgement. May was looking at Wong with all the fierceness of a Valkyrie. She would fight and maim and kill to protect her child, powers or no, "and I want to know what is going on here."

Wong let out a quiet sigh before gesturing for them to follow him up the stairs. "I did not mean to alarm you. They are both in trances, and Stephen is… exploring timelines and possible outcomes. It can be disturbing to one who has never seen him work before," Wong said, leading them down a hallway with several doors. "Your child was tainted. There were cracks and tears in his aura, indicating he passed through worlds." Tony raised his eyebrows as he followed Wong, thinking quickly. His nightmare coming to the forefront of his mind. He held the trembling teenager as he shook apart in his hands. Did that actually happen? Would it happen? "After hearing his tale, Doctor Strange decided to take a look for himself, using Peter's memories and aura to guide him." Wong stopped in front of a door that was cracked open, pushing it inward. "In here," he said, stepping forward and guiding them into the dim room.

Candles flickered on several surfaces, and Tony was distracted but what must have been a man, but whose hands and head moved so quickly they blurred, making his features indistinguishable. Before him glowed a small green stone.

"Peter!" May gasped, running to the settee—the only piece of furniture in the room—which Peter was lying down on. His eyebrows twitched a little, but otherwise he remained motionless, one arm folded over his stomach, and the other dangling uselessly over the side of the chair, fingertips brushing against the wooden floor.

Wong darted in front of her, preventing her from touching her nephew. "Please," he said with a hint of an edge to his voice—firm but somewhat afraid, "I must implore you to not touch the child until this is over. He has not been harmed—"

"The hell he hasn't! He's passed out on your couch!" May shouted, trying to move past the man.

"—and if you interrupt this ritual, we could all be in grave danger!" Wong continued, grasping May's shoulders and holding her in place.

"Hey, take your hands off of her!" Tony growled, storming forward.

"You are all so very loud. It is lucky I am able to meditate through such useless drivel." Tony turned around at the low voice, taking in the man who was the cause of all this trouble. He had silver-streaked hair, a strong jaw and blue eyes that pierced him somewhere deep and unknown. Tony repressed the urge to look away or shudder at this man's otherworldliness.

"Tell your sidekick to back off, Harry Potter."

The wizard—sorcerer, whatever—raised an eyebrow and Tony was almost certain he heard the words _reluctant companion_ muttered behind him. "Wong, I have completed my task. Peter will wake any moment now, and probably needs his aunt."

May turned and frowned at him as Wong released his hold on her and stepped aside. "How do you know who I am? What I am to him?"

"Because I have seen you in him. He holds you in very high esteem," he responded kindly. "To get to the heart of what happened, we had to make our way through his subconscious. It is a difficult spell. I apologize if it frightened you, but the boy will be alright." Suddenly Peter gasped, shooting up and clutching at his chest. May spun back around and sat at the edge of the chair, holding Peter's hands. He was blinking away tears, eyes finding May's immediately.

"May?"

"Oh, Peter! Don't ever do that to me again! Don't you know how scared I was?" May babbled, pulling him into a fierce hug. Tony stepped forward to do his own check on the kid, when the wizard held up a hand and gestured toward the door, walking out of the room. Tony looked back at the kid, speaking quietly with May before deciding not to intrude. He followed Strange out of the room and into the hallway.

"Stark," the sorcerer's tone was low, and he wore a thoughtful frown.

"Strange," Tony replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Please, we need to talk. It is most urgent, and for now I believe best done out of earshot of your ward."

"Whoa, whoa he's not my ward, what the…" where did this guy get that bizarre idea?

"If you say so," Strange replied, leading him a little further from the door.

"Yeah, I say so. God, he lives with his aunt for Christ's sake. Ward. All I did was give him a suit."

"Stark, you need to listen to me and listen well."

"When you take back the Ward comment, I might."

Strange whirled around and pierced him with that unnerving gaze. "The world as we know it is in peril. The universe is in grave danger. You must listen!" Tony closed his mouth and chewed on his cheek a little before nodding for Strange to go on. "I have seen through the cracks of that boy's spirit, into the nothing that he came out of and I must urge you to act, and quickly!"

"Look, I know you're into all the aura-magic bullshit, but—"

"In approximately 4 months, a mad titan will come to this world seeking the infinity stones," Strange talked right over him, ignoring his outburst entirely, "and he will succeed if we do not act quickly. In fact he has already succeeded, several times. If he succeeds again, our world—every world—will be destroyed."

Tony closed and opened his mouth a few times. "What now?"

"Destroyed, Tony. Our world as we know it will be destroyed."

"No, no, back up. Several times?"

Strange frowned and looked away. "We have tried before and failed. He has something of a sixth sense, and because of it he is the only one able to remember what happened. We—I—have sent that boy back here many times to correct our error, each time tweaking the timeline for the correct outcome. Each time he has ended up on that planet, turning into dust in your arms."

" _Sir, please._ Please, _I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go…." Collapsing into cold sand and crumbling rock. Deep brown eyes, afraid, taking everything in, knowing it's the last time they'll see anything before finding Tony's very heart with his gaze. "I'm sorry..."_

Strange looked at him with a melancholy glint in his eyes. "He doesn't… doesn't remember." Tony looked up sharply. "He does, but he doesn't. Peter always wakes up, usually at different points, and he remembers that he died. He remembers Death and her fascination with him. He remembers how he died, how it felt, and that he needs to find me and convince us of the truth. But he doesn't remember how… often, it has happened. At this point he has crossed over so many times, I fear for the preservation of his spirit. There are cracks there that will be difficult to seal, and I fear if we fail again, he will not have enough soul left to cross into either world."

Tony was slowly filled with a cold rage that started in his belly and worked its way up his chest and into his throat. Peter who rescued cats from trees and helped little old ladies cross the street, who didn't have a cruel bone in his body was going to fade into nothing because of some crazy alien tyrant? "Who?" he asked, sharply. "Who are we taking out? You tell me this bastard's name, because if he tries to do this to my kid again…"

"Thanos. He is a madman, bent on destroying half of all life in the universe. He believes it will restore balance, help to extend resources and help the other half survive."

Tony shook his head a little. "Okay, how can he even do that? He's only one man-titan-thing."

"The infinity stones," Strange said.

"Yeah, you're gonna need to give me a little more than that."

Strange pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right. You don't know about them yet."

"Enlighten me."

Which led to a magical 3-D PowerPoint presentation by Wong and Strange, describing the infinity stones and their purpose. Tony paced the foyer before leaning against a huge, heavy, metal jar.

"If he obtains all the infinity stones, he could destroy life on a scale hitherto undreamt of," Strange said solemnly.

"Did you _seriously_ just say _'hitherto undreamt of?'_ " he asked, stretching his legs and bracing himself against a giant, glorified cooking pot.

"Are you _seriously_ leaning on the _Cauldron of the Cosmos?_ " Strange replied, walking over to him quickly.

"Is that what this is?" he felt a sharp slap against his shoulder, causing him to straighten up and face the others again. "Okay, so what. These infinity stones just, destroy?"

Strange shook his head. "They can do almost anything."

"So if he's so concerned about balancing the universe, why not just double the resources with them?"

"What part of madman did you not understand?"

"Fair point," Tony said, crossing his arms again.

"Mr. Stark?" Tony looked up to see Peter and May coming down the staircase.

"Hey kid. You missed one hell of a demonstration. Crazy magic, visions, dramatic monologue…"

Peter smiled a little. "That's okay, Mr. Stark. I'm pretty familiar with Doctor Strange's magic."

 _Huh,_ Tony thought. _Guess he would be._

"Okay, Merlin. You have me here. Now what?"

"Now, you grab that ridiculous flip phone you've been holding onto for the last who-knows-how-long and make a call."

Tony's heart fell to his stomach.

"We need all hands on deck, Stark."

Tony looked at Peter's beseeching expression, huge cow eyes turned on him with both admiration and anxiety. He looked at Tony like he was his last hope. His face seemed to say, _if anyone can do it, it's you, Mr. Stark. Please._

 _Please._

 _I don't wanna go._

Tony sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the last thing Rogers ever gave him. He flipped open the phone, and dialed the only contact listed, placing it against his ear. It rang once. Twice. After the third ring, he heard a voice he never thought he wanted to hear again.

To be honest, he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to hear it now.

"Hello?"

Tony looked at Peter one more time, seeing him alive and whole and well, but also seeing the haunted look in his eyes, helping him steel his resolve.

"Hey, Capsicle. We've got a situation over here."

* * *

 _A/N: Well that's it. That's a wrap. That's all, folks. Hope you enjoyed it. If anyone is interested, I'm working on a homecoming/ultimate spider-man AU with Kingpin where our favorite web-slinger maybe walks on the dark side a little bit. A kind of, what if this were the situation when Peter first got his powers scenario that I think is pretty cool. Keep your eyes peeled. It's outlined start to finish. I want to get a couple of chapters done before I start posting so I can at least be a smidge more consistent than I usually am._

 _Hope you enjoyed this one, and please leave a review (don't spoil Endgame if you've seen it, please. I might cry, and it's not nice to make people cry)._

 _Until next time!_


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